


stranded on the wrong beach

by madfatty



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:22:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madfatty/pseuds/madfatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an actual list he’s made - folded tightly into quarters in the bottom of his bag - of the things that he wants to make happen. A whole list of things he’s had to put big, black angry mental lines through because Rae just won’t co-operate. The 'sexy party' isn't proving all that sexy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stranded on the wrong beach

**Author's Note:**

> So I appear to be obsessed with episode 4 of series 1 "Don't ever tell anybody anything" and have a lot of thoughts and feelings about it. Here are some of them.
> 
> Noel Gallagher is once again from whence I stole the title. I hope he has a sense of humour about such things. If not, I hope he never finds out.

This is awful. Nothing’s going the way it’s supposed to. He’s not meant to be sat here with all these knobheads in a stupid bloody circle, kissing random girls and being ignored by Rae.

They’re meant to be having a laugh, finally getting to know each other properly without all the bullshit. He wants to be sitting with her somewhere on their own, just them and some beers and a whole pile of music, arguing over favourite bands and best albums because he wants to know what she thinks. He wants her to know what he thinks too, even if it starts an argument, because arguing with Rae about music is the most fun he’s had in ages. 

She’s so quick and sharp he’s tempted to say purposely daft things just to listen to her go off on one. He’s sat just far enough away to feign disinterest but close enough so as not to miss a word of every conversation she’s had since she started hanging out with them, and he knows that she’s smart and funny but she doesn’t know that he can be just as funny – not that he’s felt like being funny lately – and he wants to show her that he can be. Then, when he thinks the time is right, he’ll talk to her about his Nan and how worried he is.

He doesn’t know when this idea that she’s the one who can make him feel better about it started or why he’s so sure that it’s Rae who can convince him that his Nan will be alright and that he’s worrying for nothing. He definitely doesn’t understand where the compulsion he has to draw her in to his arms is coming from all of a sudden either; why he needs to be touching her skin. It’s an impulse he’s not even trying to control, like some sort of survival instinct on his part, but she’s having none of it and that just makes him want it more. 

The first time, alright, the only time, she’s let him hug her he’d meant it as a declaration of peace; an armistice to end their war. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot is all, unable to find common ground despite being ridiculously similar, which made Chopper and Arch laugh like drains whenever Finn complained about what a loud mouthed, opinionated know-all Rae was.

They were both too busy being stubborn to relent even just a little, butting heads right from the beginning. Neither wanting to appear to give any ground, neither wanting to appear weak, but last Friday afternoon, Finn had seen another side of Rae, one that had him thinking most of Friday night - while painstakingly editing together the most killer road trip mix tape ever - that maybe he could be a little friendlier.

He found her shy smiles and the almost playful derision of his musical choices on the tormentingly brief ride to the exit of the pub’s car park a cruel tease of what they could have had, but the long drive to Stevenage and back without her had also given him plenty of time to think, to recognise what everybody else had seen from the start. Yes, it’s taken him a little longer than the others to warm to her, but then it always does. He’s just wary around new people. She’ll know that about him now. 

The second time he goes to hug her it’s kind of an announcement to the gang that there has been a mutual cease-fire and Finn Nelson and Rae Earl are now friends, so he’s a little confused, and a little hurt if he’s honest, when she pushes him away, fobbing him off and giving all the time and attention he’d coveted for himself to Archie. Finn’s generously decided to put that down to her kind and caring nature and Archie being obviously out of sorts. It had to be Archie though, didn’t it? It’s always bloody Archie.

He’s finding it hard to make excuses for her the third time though, everyone else got a warm welcome; hugs and kisses but he’s left standing there with his arms wide open and empty like some giant pillock. She’s all over Archie and then snarking in the next breath that she’s got some sort of ridiculous policy.

She’s still being off with him and he doesn’t know what he’s done. He doesn’t think it’s fair. He’s never had to work this hard before but he wants to make it up to her so he’s trying to be nice and friendly; funny even, but she’s not having it. And it’s not like she’s got the shits in general. She’s got plenty of smiles for the others, even that Danny guy, but she can’t even bring herself to look at Finn or speak in complete sentences to him. All that rehearsing the witty back-and-forth about Chop and his desperate need to get off with someone is all for naught because Rae’s pretending she can’t hear him.

He feels kind of stupid, now that he’s sitting here and it’s happening, that the thought only just dawns on him that the bottle could land on Rae (as the bottle lands on Rae) and that he might have to watch her kiss someone else. He hadn’t considered that he may not be the one who gets to kiss her. Why is he only just figuring this out now? All the elaborate daydreaming he’d done when Chop had first suggested the party and then all the careful planning he’d done when Chop rang to say she’d changed her mind and it was on – the possibility that it wouldn’t be him never once occurred to him. He’s such a fucking idiot. His stomach is in knots and every sip of beer he takes burns like acid. God, he feels sick, and angry and hurt and it’s not meant to be like this. They’re supposed to be friends now.

He decides that it doesn’t matter who the bottle lands on, he’s the only one she’s going into the airing cupboard with. She’s already pissed off with him so what does it matter if he pisses her off a little more. He needs answers, right now, and he’s not going to risk that she’ll end up in the cupboard with that Danny guy or Jesus, Archie for fuck’s sake –and the way Finn’s night is going wouldn’t that just be his fucking luck – and he’ll lose her for the rest of the night. Maybe for good. The bottle barely has time to come to a complete stop before he’s up and on his feet and headed to the landing. He doesn’t even look back to make sure she’s following him because the mood he’s in, if she’s not right behind him when he opens that door, he’s turning around and coming straight back to drag her out with him, because he’d most definitely had plans for tonight and yes, there is an actual list he’s made - folded tightly into quarters in the bottom of his bag - of the things that he wants to make happen. A whole list of things he’s had to put big, black angry mental lines through because Rae just won’t co-operate. The only thing on the list that’s come close to being ticked off is them ending up in the airing cupboard together but he can’t even enjoy that because he’s so ticked off. 

It’s close quarters in the cupboard and he’s trying not to get distracted by the smell of her hair - he’s been craving green apples since Monday – and the fact that if he flexed his fingers even just a little, he’d be touching her. It’s almost perfect, it’s almost exactly like he imagined it, except for the fact that she’s very obviously not into it. It hurts more than it should. They both understand the object of the exercise and she’s right there and he so desperately wants to kiss her, more than he remembers ever wanting to kiss anyone at any time before, but she’s pissing him about and pissing him off and he can’t stand it anymore. He leans in and he’s just inches away from ticking off at least one entry on his list but he can’t; not until he knows what the fuck is going on with them. He thought they were sorted. Thought they were friends. Well, he won’t die wondering.


End file.
